Why Was I Born?
by RamblingRae
Summary: He was a disappointment. He seemed to ruin everyone's life. Allistor had said it himself this morning. 'If ye'd never been born'. A soft breath passed over Arthur's lips. "Why did I have to be born?" He voiced his thoughts aloud before he rolled over, his eyes closing. One-shot. Read the message at the end.


**_[AN:_**

 _ **Everything that needs to be said is at the end of the drabble, so feel free to read until the end.**_

 ** _I wrote this for my Facebook page a while back and I thought that it'd be good to bring it back._**

 ** _I don't own Hetalia nor do I own this idea- it came from Shane Dawson's "Why Was I Born?" video that he made a while back. Go watch that video and support him._** ** _]_**

* * *

 **Why Was I Born?**

 **Ding ding ding! Ding ding ding!**

Brilliant coloured emerald hues blinked open at the all too familiar sound of his alarm clock going off. And then, they closed.

 _(Not today. Could I not wake up today?)_

But that alarm clock kept going off and going off and going off, determined to get Arthur out of bed.

 **Ding ding ding! Ding ding ding! Ding ding di-**

A slender hand reached over, hitting the button that would turn the clock off. He exhaled, a sort of exasperated exhale escaping him. "I'm up, I'm up," Arthur mumbled aloud as he tossed his bed sheets aside, and he scooted out of bed, leaving the sheets in a messy bundle. There was no point in making the bed this morning.

Looking back over to the clock, his eyes widened as he realized that he was late. He should have gotten ready nearly ten minutes ago. "Bloody hell-" He cursed aloud as he scrambled to gather some sort of outfit. Shirt, jeans, shoes. Mismatched socks. His life was chaos, he didn't know what he was doing. He was a literature major, and was stuck at a dead end office job. He'd wanted to be an English professor. What had happened? Where had his life gone?

He wasn't sure himself.

And then, he headed into the bathroom, locked the door and started to clean up a bit- just so that he hopefully wouldn't smell as bad when he got there. Deodorant, body spray, the works. And just as he was brushing his teeth, loud knocking sounded against the door.

 **Knock knock knock.**

"Oi! Lad! Hurry up in there!" His brother, Allistor, yelled. He was trying to rush him again. He'd probably gotten up late again and was trying to rush to work.

Arthur sighed aloud, removing the toothbrush from his mouth. "Just a moment!" He called in return, hand over his mouth so that toothpaste wouldn't spew everywhere. Just because his brothers were pigs didn't mean that he was.

There was a growl from the other side. "Best make it quick. I'm late fer work as it is!"

Rolling his eyes, the blond continued to brush his teeth thoroughly- he was already late. He didn't have much to lose at this point.

"If ye'd never been born, I wouldn't haveta work at this stinkin' plant. I coulda graduated college and became a doctor!" The older brother ranted from the other side.

Arthur tried not to deflate because of this, but it was hard. Spitting out the excess toothpaste, he rinsed out his mouth, gargling once, twice, three times, before he put his toothbrush back in it's proper place. Then, he opened the bathroom door, looking Allistor in the eyes for a moment before he sighed. "There." He muttered simply before he walked off, adjusting his tie as he walked.

Heading down the hall, he came to a door that said "Warning! Stay out! Peter's room!" in all caps and crude letters. It was his younger brother's room. The sound of loud music and loud drums sounded from the room, signaling that the boy was indeed practicing on his drum set. His playing was crude; at best.

Opening the door, Arthur kept adjusting his tie. "Oi! Peter, could you please feed the dog? I'm late so I don't have time-"

He was answered by a drumstick flying toward his face. "I'm busy!" The younger Kirkland snapped.

Peter had changed a lot lately. He started wearing darker clothing, wore enough eyeliner to make Andy Biersack's make-up look tame, and he had a sort of bloodshot look to his eyes that either screamed "marijuana" or "insomnia". Either way, Arthur was fed-up with him and his behaviour.

He frowned. "What? Practicing to join a band one of these days? You can't even hold a beat, let alone become good enough to become a world famous drummer."Arthur drawled slowly, bending down to pick up the drumstick that had been previously thrown at his face.

The teenager fumed. "I'd be bloody brilliant if you weren't interrupting me all the fuckin' time!" He snapped, only to easily catch the stick that was thrown back at him. Arthur sighed. "Feed the dog. Please." He said finally before he closed the door behind him, just deciding to leave the house and head on to work. He'd have to walk since Allistor needed the car to get to the other side of town.

Upon leaving the house, Arthur looked over to the neighbour's yard, seeing a little boy with wheat coloured hair and bright cerulean coloured eyes. He wore thick-framed red glasses, and he seemed a bit sad as he played with a car on the ground. Well. That didn't look like fun.

Heading over to kneel in front of him, Arthur smiled gently. "Hello Alfred. Where are your friends today?"

The boy looked up, blinked slowly, before his shoulders slumped. "Hi Arthur. I don't-"

They both knew what he was about to say.

That he didn't have any.

But instead of saying that, Alfred smiled and laughed. "They're busy. They'll be around soon, I promise."

Though, they both knew that they wouldn't be. Alfred didn't have any friends.

There was a moment of silence before Arthur cleared his throat, smiling again. "Well- if they end up not coming around, how about we go to the arcade later on? Once I get off work?"

Alfred brightened. "Are you for cereal?"

A nod.

"Awesome!" The younger boy called, pumping his fist into the air. "Sounds like fun!"

Arthur couldn't help but smile wider. "Fantastic. I will see you later then."

"Bye bye!"

And then Arthur was off again, on the path to work. In order to get to the office that he worked at, one had to take the bus and then walk down a long road. So, that was what he did. The trip as a whole took about fifteen minutes, and by that time, he was nearly half an hour late. He just prayed that he wouldn't get fired.

Upon walking in, his boss was near the door. His boss was a tall, very built Russian by the name of Ivan Braginski. Cold, intimidating, and always out to get Arthur, so it seemed. The tall man was smiling toward him, but his eyes were ice cold. "Kirkland. Why are you so late?" Braginski asked calmly.

Arthur cleared his throat. "W-well, I-"

"You know what, I do not care." Braginski interrupted him, his smile growing even wider. A nicer way of saying that he just didn't give a shit. It was almost like he got pleasure knowing that Arthur had done something wrong. "I will just be docking your pay. Have a nice day." And then he was off, leaving Arthur to go to his work.

Big brows furrowing, Arthur headed to his desk to start a whole day's work of typing and sending out memos.

 _(Oh, what a time to be alive.)_

Eight hours. Eight long hours before Arthur was allowed to clock out. He didn't take a lunch break. He wasn't hungry. It was late afternoon by the time that he got off, and he was just ready to head home. Heading straight to his house, he ignored anyone and everyone as he trudged into his room, laying back against the bed.

What had his life become? Wasn't going to college supposed to help you figure things out? Arthur was a brilliant student. He had gotten into the college of his choice with a full ride scholarship. It had seemed that he had everything going for him. Or so everyone thought. So _he_ had thought.

He was a disappointment. He seemed to ruin everyone's life. Allistor had said it himself this morning.

 _'If ye'd never been born'._

A soft breath passed over Arthur's lips. "Why did I have to be born?" He voiced his thoughts aloud before he rolled over, his eyes closing.

Then came a loud poof. Then a thump.

"Oh Scheiße!" Came a voice from the middle of his room. "That was a heavy landing!"

Arthur was stunned by the sound and voice, and was even more shocked to look up and see a very pale man in tights in his bedroom. The man had messy white hair, bright red eyes, and the palest skin that he had ever seen. An albino?

But not an ordinary albino. On the albino's back were a pair of large, white wings that matched his white outfit. He looked pristine. Mystical.

"Excuse me? Who are you?" Arthur managed to ask after a moment, just watching as the man (Fairy? Angel?) brushed dust off of his legs.

A laugh. "Kesesese! Just call me Gil!" Gilbert spoke at last, grinning widely, hands on his hips as he looked over at the Brit, who looked just as confused as ever. "I'm, well, what you humans would call a guardian angel, I suppose! I've been watching you for years, Arthur!"

"Me?" Arthur repeated slowly.

"Ja! You!" Gil responded, wings fluttering behind him. "I've come to show you what the world would be like if you were never born! Now come on!" He clapped, moving to hold out a pale hand for Arthur to grab. The Brit blinked slowly, but decided to take it. What was the worst that could happen?

And as soon as their hands touched, Gil snapped his fingers and they were somewhere else, in a doctor's office, it looked like.

Arthur blinked. "Where are we?"

"This is where your brother would currently be if you were never born," The being replied, signaling for him to be quiet as they watched.

Coming out of a back door, Allistor wore a crisp white lab coat, his red hair slicked back. He was glowing. A bright smile was on his face. A receptionist waved to him. "Afternoon, Dr. Kirkland!" She greeted brightly. "Afternoon!" The now-doctor called back, seeming to be in a grand old mood. So different from the Allistor that Arthur knew.

Arthur blinked slowly. "He actually became a doctor," He breathed out in shock.

"A really successful one too," Gil pointed out, rather unhelpfully. The Brit almost shot him a glare, but his hand was grabbed again. "W-well, let's see how your little brother is without you!" The albino decided aloud, before he snapped his hands again.

Now they were in a garage. Well, they were in the doorway of one. In the middle of said garage, were a few members of a band, practicing a new number. And where else was Peter, but at the drums. And he was really, really, good.

Twirling a drumstick in his hand, Peter was grinning as he continued hitting the drums with a sort of confidence that Arthur had never seen before.

"He's actually good." Arthur commented in disbelief.

"And he's on the track to becoming a rock star." Gil added with a smile.

Arthur's lips pressed together. His family seemed happier without him being in existence. If that wasn't hurtful, he didn't know what was.

Seeing the look on the blond's face, Gilbert looked crestfallen and tried to laugh. "Your boss? Let's see how your boss is doing without your help-" He said, seeming optimistic as he took Arthur's hand again, transporting them to another location.

They were in the same office building that Arthur worked in. Everything seemed to be the same, this time, Ivan was waiting by the door for another employee to walk in. A poor scared man. "Toris, why are you late again?"

"I- I-"

It was a replay of what exactly had occurred to him this morning. Instead of watching this happen to someone else, Arthur looked to Gil, eyes full of hurt. "He's still the same, Gil. He's still an arsehole."

Gilbert looked over at him, looking over at Arthur with a look full of pity and sorrow. "I'm sorry, Arthur, I really thought that this would do some good- but all of these people seem to be happier without you."

"Thanks." Arthur replied saltily, sarcastically. "Really encouraging."

The albino scratched his neck, their hands intertwining again. "I'll just take you back-" He said as he snapped his fingers once more.

They weren't back in Arthur's bedroom. The air around them was cold, sad, and after looking around, Arthur could tell that they were in a cemetery. "...Why are we in a cemetery?" The Brit asked after a moment, and to this, Gilbert only shrugged. "I'm not sure-"

 _(Great. The angel has no idea why we're here. He's probably gotten us lost in space and time-.)_

His thoughts were interrupted whenever he looked down. He blinked slowly. He was standing on a tombstone. It read:

 _ **In loving memory of Alfred F. Jones**_

 _ **July 4, 2001 – July 4, 2016**_

 _ **An angel who left us too soon;  
But one that will never be forgotten.**_

Blink blink.

"Alfred? As in next-door-neighbour Alfred?" Arthur asked aloud, looking toward Gilbert with confused eyes.

 _(That sweet boy? What happened?)_

And then, it seemed that Gilbert had remembered something. "Oh-" The angel breathed out, a hand over his mouth. "Ja, ja, I remember."

"Remember what?" Arthur inquired, his tone urgent, his back straightened.

Gilbert's lips pressed together for a moment. And then, he spoke."You were his only friend, Arthur." He explained quietly, hands fiddling with his flowing shirt. "It was his birthday that day- and his mother threw a birthday party to celebrate. She even invited all of his classmates." Sad crimson eyes met Arthur's. "And guess who came, Arthur?"

"...Who?"

"No one." Gil replied. "And that night, Alfred was feeling just about the same as you were earlier- only he didn't have an angel to come and stop him."

Arthur was in tears at this point. Oh god, how could he have ever thought that no one needed him? That he didn't matter? He wiped his eyes, a sob holding itself in his throat. His stomach was in knots. How could he have been so selfish?

"Take me back." Arthur whispered at last. "Please," He looked up to meet Gilbert's eyes. "Please, take me back."

And Gilbert just smiled softly, nodding as he took Arthur's hand. "Atta boy."

 **Poof.**

Arthur was now back in his bedroom, his eyes still wet, his body reeling from the whole experience. But that didn't matter now. Scrambling out of his bed, he slipped his shoes on in a hurry and headed outside, only to see Alfred in his usual spot, looking just a bit more down than usual.

Walking up to him again, Arthur knelt down, a smile on his face. His eyes were still wet, and had just a hint of tears in them. "Hey, Al," He greeted, only to have the boy look back at him, cerulean eyes wide, blinking. "Want to go to the arcade now?" Arthur asked, and the smile that he received in return to that question just warmed his heart.

"Yeah!"

Helping the boy up, Arthur took his hand and together they headed down the street. He knew now, that there was a reason he was born. Even if it didn't seem like it sometimes, he had a purpose. He had a niche. He was a vital piece to this world, and to those around him.

And Arthur would never forget that again.

* * *

 **[Message from the writer:**

 _I wrote this because I saw Shane Dawson's "Why Was I Born?" video for the second time. I was feeling down, depressed, and just plain useless at the time, and this really helped me. I wanted to express how important each and everyone is to this world. We all have people that need us (or will need us). We all matter._

 _ **We all matter.**_

 _And if you're feeling like perhaps you're insignificant or perhaps things would be better if you weren't alive or even born- you're wrong. You're so, so wrong, friendo. There are people who care, who need you- even if they're an internet friend, a brother, a sister, a mother, a boyfriend, a girlfriend..._

 _ **You're important.**_

 _Please don't ever leave those people. If you're feeling suicidal or hurt yourself, or just feel like you need someone to talk to, I can assure you that there are countless people out there who will help you if you just let them. I personally am here. Email me [queenofdorks99 gmail ] or message me on FF. I will help you and listen to the best of my ability. Message someone. Call a suicide hot line. There are plenty of those around on the internet, and I promise that if you truly want it, you will become better._

 _Things always get better._

 _ **Things always get better.**_

 _I've been there before. I know. It's okay. You don't have to deal with this alone._

 _ **You're not alone.**_

 _I believe this wholly and sincerely, and I believe in you, friend. I believe that you can be whatever you want, and that you can do good in this world. You're strong. You're beautiful. You're important._

 _And I love you. I love you so, so much- and others do as well. Believe it. Believe in them. Believe in yourself. Believe in life. Life does suck- and I'm sorry that it has to be that way, but it does get better. That cliché is overly used, but it's true, honey, it really is._

 _So live. Live your life. Be happy. Be successful. Do what you love and be with those you love._

 _Life is precious and special and so is each and every person._

 _ **You are loved.**_

 _ **You are precious.**_

 _ **You are special.**_

 _All my love and a million times more,_

 _RamblingRae_ **]**


End file.
